


A Candle in the Night

by Natasja



Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Flash Fiction, Multi, Origins, Short Stories, Superheroes, Will add more tags when my damn internet is working, backstories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-14 02:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11773455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natasja/pseuds/Natasja
Summary: Background short stories for my fic Striking Back.Hydrokinetic two-year-olds with an aversion to bath time, the full stories of Barron Battle and the Pied Piper, and Mad Science gone Wrong (or very right).





	1. Chapter 1

The Cryptographer, a Technopath with an affinity for computers, had no actual regrets about going inactive - that is, filling a background role in the Superhero Community rather than actively combating the forces of Evil - but there were days that he missed the comparatively carefree life of an active Hero. Super-villains could at least be counted upon to monologue about their aims and agenda, and their weakness was usually a matter of record.

Gregori, as the Cryptographer was known in his Secret Identity, hadn't expected being a stay-at-home dad to be easy, but he and his wife, Patricia, (also known as the minor Villainess the Pied Piper) hadn't reckoned on their twin daughters developing powers so early, either. Not to say that he wasn't proud they would one day follow in his footsteps, at least for the three years of Compulsory National Service required for anyone with Superpowers. He just wished that they could have waited until puberty, or until they had passed milestones like impulse control and the ability to listen to rational arguments.

At least it looked like their powers were still developing, though it would have been nice if either child had developed an inherited power, so he and Hannah could at least have a frame of reference. As it was, the Pied Piper's ability to command rodents and their heightened sense of smell was of some use when it came to locating a mischievous two-year-old who could literally hide in the shadows, but neither that nor his own technical powers were any help against a hydrokinetic toddler with an aversion to bath time.

Alara's power might have been limited to things containing water, rather than water itself, but her parents were quickly discovering just how many seemingly-innocent objects fell into that category.

* * *

A loud squeal and the patter of tiny paws gave him a few moments warning before the squirrels who lived in the backyard tree swarmed by, carrying Roisin with them. Ten seconds later, a loud splash and giggling meant that their job was half-done. Roisin stopped protesting once she was actually in the water, and Chris was starting to suspect that she only held out in hopes of a squirrel ride.

Pulling a handful of technical components out of his pocket, Gregori tracked down his younger daughter, hiding under a sheepskin in the typical toddler belief that if she couldn't see anyone else, then they couldn't see her. Fortunately, Alara was easily distracted by the floating parts, separating and reforming into different trinkets, that Patricia actually managed to get most of her scrubbed down before Alara noticed where she was and shrieked, sending most of the bath toys and all of the bubbles flying out of the tub.

Patricia sighed and shook her dripping hair out of her face as Gregori fetched a mop and a dry towel. "At least she'll sleep through the night."

Indeed, Alara was already half-asleep, the use of her powers exhausting for a body that had yet to build up the stamina required. Gregori bundled Alara into the towel, as Patricia turned attention and washcloth onto Roisin, who had been amusing herself by tugging the shadows of the bath-toys back and forth, trying to make them move. So far, any movement was indistinguishable from the bobbing of the waves, but that was going to be interesting to deal with in a few years.

Gregori lifted Alara into his arms, the trials of raising super-powered children entirely worth it at the feel of her tiny head resting on his shoulder. "Gives us a chance to clean all this up. I'll be back in a moment."

* * *

Getting Alara into a sea-green nightie and tucked into sea-life patterned sheets was the work of moments, and Gregori stopped by the linen closet for another two towels, returning in time for Roisin to decide that baths were less fun without Alara there to make things interesting. He took over drying her off while Patricia gratefully accepted the other towel. It was little things like that that made their marriage work, despite their conflicting ideologies. The fact that Patricia's preferred method of causing trouble was to sue both sides for reckless endangerment whenever an Epic Battle took place in a populated area, also helped, since Gregoi didn't have to worry about the moral and ethical conflict of not arresting someone who endangered civilian lives.

With Roisin safely in her own bed, lulled to sleep with a soft nightlight that made the shadows in the bedroom flicker and dance, Chris re-joined his wife in the living room, where a pot of hot chocolate waited, and the duo of pet rats were bringing over a package of tim-tams. Drinking to cope was a habit that neither of them intended to get into, but a small treat was acceptable. Collapsing next to his wife, Gregori draped an arm over the back of the couch. "As much as I love our two hellions, what are your thoughts on me getting a vasectomy?"

Patricia looked up from her lap-top. "I think that's a wonderful idea, especially if the Barron Battle trial goes like I think it will and we end up helping Firestar with Warren on top of our own two. We can afford it easily enough, especially under Superhero Health Insurance."

Gregroi relaxed. "I'll make the appointment in the morning. Besides, if we change our minds, vasectomies are comparatively easier to reverse."

Patricia laughed, "Not until the twins are much older, I assure you."

 

 


	2. Pearls of Wisdom, Falling Softly into the Void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The job of a Guidance Councillor is a thankless one. The job of Career Advisor, especially in a school for Superheroes, is even moreso.

Ms Carol Rin sighed, wishing for what seemed like the umpteenth time this week that she had a different job.

As an empath, Carol had been regulated to sidekick status, and done her time before being launched into a job market that asked far too many questions about her work history. Then, the previous Career Advisor for her local branch of the Superhero Academy retired, and the Superhero Council, in all their collective and questionable wisdom, decided that her ability made her the perfect fit to replace them. Carol had ‘accepted’ - though it had been less of a request than a demand - in the interest of job security, but there were times that she truly hated her job.

Students graduated from the Superhero Academy dreaming of fame and glory, only to be disappointed if they weren’t one of the select few to become Career Heroes. They found themselves looking for work, competing with others in a way that they had never needed to, with few foundations and little support. And yet, with each graduating class, the woman who had once been Emoji (her Hero had no imagination) pasted a smile on her face and did her best to give them a good start that would continue beyond their mandatory service.

Even years later, Carol remembered the crushing feeling when she finished her five years as a Sidekick and was told that her services were no longer required. She also remembered the anger six years after that, when the Superhero Council came to her with the expectation that she would spend the rest of her working life helping to set unsuspecting children up for that same disappointment.

* * *

A knock at the door reminded her that, like it or (very much) not, she still had to earn her paycheque. “Come in.”

A boy stepped inside, with the nervous air of one who knew that he was borderline between ranks, and desperate to avoid anything that might tip him down to second-tier. Carol winced internally; somehow, these cases were even worse than the hopelessness of the second-tier sidekicks, who knew that no matter what she or anyone else said, they were in for five years of overlooked Hell. A quick surface-scan of his emotions confirmed her impression, and Carol checked the list of students she was due to meet today. “Good morning, Mr Jackson. Please, have a seat.” 

His hands twisted in his lap as he obeyed her instruction. “Good morning, Miss.”

Carol tried to look reassuring, raising a mental shield to block his emotions from affecting her, the first thing any empath learned. “So, Career Advice. I assume you’ve gone through the registration forms already in Homeroom. Did you have any preferences for your cover job?”

Young Mr Jackson fidgeted. “Not really, Miss. Journalist or Mailman sound the most reliable, but I don’t think that I’m really cut out for either of those.”

Mail delivery allowed for setting your own hours, and no-one noticed if you had to rush off suddenly, as long as the mail got delivered. It was also one of the most soul-sucking jobs around. Journalists had the excuse of chasing up a lead or meeting a contact, but unless the Hero in question had Super-Speed, they would, at some point, face questions about the ratio of absences to stories. Editors-in-Chief might be persuaded to turn a blind eye, especially if it got them exclusives in the wake of an Epic Battle, but nosy co-workers were something else entirely. Especially when said co-workers were also investigative journalists.

Saying none of that, Carol only nodded. “Well, it’s good that you recognise it. What would you say that your strengths are?”

Mr Jackson twitched again. “I’m good at routine work and following up on problems. I’m ok at telling small groups of people what to do, but not so great at getting them to listen to me.”

Carol made a few notes. Despite the self-disparagement, he actually had a good base to start off. “Do any of your relatives who are aware of your powers have an online or small business?”

Low-level shop jobs were the easiest for high-school graduates to get, and a family business would overlook sudden absences, where other places where teenage workers were no more than interchangeable faces would not. It also cut down on the need for ready excuses or complex evasive answers.

Mr Jackson’s face fell abruptly. “No, my parents are both doctors. Are there any other options?”

And reliability was paramount for anyone working in a medical practice. There were other options, but not many. “There is casual agency employment, or Administration work for the Superhero Council. I can get you in contact with some retired Heroes who run their own business, or provide information about further studies in small-business start-ups. You also have the option of studying during your mandatory service, but a cover-job is preferable to establish a work history for when you retire.”

Mr Jackson frowned, finally showing a flash of fire. “I plan on being a Career Hero.”

Well, there went any chance of him listening to another word she said. Career Heroes _existed_ , certainly, but they were rare. Some Heroes passed on their name and costume, giving the _appearance_ of a long-term Hero, but even Career Supers were subject to injury, age and illness. Dying in the line of duty was rare, but not unheard-of, and even the best Career Heroes called it quits after a decade or two, when their reflexes started to slow or family concerns reared their head.

Yet, there were always a few graduates who were utterly unable to see past the perceived glory of their active years to what would come after. Carol could only hope that this attitude didn’t come back to bite him later.

Nevertheless, she persisted. “Even Career Heroes retire or go reserve eventually, and at that point, you’ll want some work experience, job history or existing employment to fall back on.”

She didn’t add that it was nearly impossible to get a job without some form of work history, or that the Super Transitional Program was woefully overworked and understaffed, or that only the top percent of first-tier Heroes were asked to become Career, knowing that it would do no good. Sure enough, Mr Jackson only nodded politely, and Carol gave a silent and heartfelt sigh at the stubborn defiance she sensed. “Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate the advice.”

He stood and left, radiating quiet indignation. Carol briefly contemplated thumping her head on the desk, ultimately deciding against it. She didn’t need the additional headache. Instead, she pressed the intercom that connected her to the secretary who did triage for the office staff, mentally steeling herself in preparation. “Send in the next student, please.”

 

 

 


	3. Justice For All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Treat your Sidekick with dignity and respect, because having a support system is far more important than you realise.

The Pied Piper gritted her teeth and tried not to roll her eyes. Everyone had their off days, but sometimes it seemed that her Assigned Hero’s ‘off-days’, aka the days he let her navigate, were also his best days. There were times that she wished she had inquired further about why Silverblade’s previous Sidekick had quit, rather than taking up the offer in her desperation to get off the second-tier roster of Supers. “You do realise that we’re going the wrong way, yes?”

Silverblade ignored her, other than letting lose what he would no doubt insist was a very manly shriek as a rat scurried across his foot. “Can’t you keep those wretched vermin away from us?”

Commanding rodents to avoid them was, in fact, well within the Pied Piper’s admittedly limited powers. On the other hand, rats were both very good informants, and the most effective way for her to get back at Silverblade for the way he treated her. Sidekick or not, surely basic decency was not so much to ask.

Rather than ordering the rat away, she scooped it up, before she could give into the temptation to suggest that it should run up Silverblade’s pants. While that would be amusing, it wouldn’t help them find the villainous duo that they were after. “He says that two people were trying to escape down the other corridor, sniggering about a trap.”

That wasn’t exactly what the rat had said, since animals communicated more in impressions and images than in human languages, but it was the general translation. Silverblade finally condescended to look at and speak to her directly. “That just means that their show of running away is the trap, so we’ll catch them if we keep going this way.”

It meant nothing of the sort, but long and exasperating experience had taught the Pied Piper that attempting to reason with her idiot of a Hero would get her nowhere. Really, the fact that she was still holding the rat was all that kept her from throwing her hands in the air. The rodent had done nothing to deserve an impromptu flight. “If we go this way, it will end with you hanging over a vat of something potentially fatal, and me having to pull off a last-minute rescue. _Again_.”

Silverblade only shrugged, which was a step up from denying that she had ever needed to do any such thing, but not by much.  He would save those denials for any of the media who thought to ask, in a post-battle interview. “You’re a Sidekick, that’s pretty much your only use. Now, stop whining and hurry up, before they get away.”

The Pied Piper sighed and put the rat down, silently requesting that he gather any other rodents in the vicinity and follow her at a distance. Silverblade might have the ability to create blades of white energy, but the Pied Piper was far from the only one to think that his real Superpower was exceptional luck in Sidekicks. If he proved to be as useless as he usually was, she wanted _some_ form of back-up.

* * *

 

Silverblade was hanging upside-down over a vat of acid, wrapped in chains, the liquid glowing in an ominous way that suggested that burns and scarring would be the least of the Hero’s problems if he got splashed. His Sidekick, arms folded in annoyance under the ropes that bound her, hung off to the side, her long braid brushing against the floor. Minions and Sidekicks, bonding over usually being treated like shit by their superiors, tended to be much nicer to each other than to Heroes or Villains. Solo Villains were even more likely to cut a Sidekick some slack, if for an entirely different reason.

No-one liked to talk about it, but a worrying number of solo and minor Villains were former Sidekicks themselves. Some had been pushed too far, or were fed up of their contributions being ignored, and quit in a fashion that led to the Superhero Council labelling them Villains. Others, believing themselves capable of more than the role of Sidekick restricted them to and desperate for a chance to prove it, made a point of proving exactly what they could do, usually to the public detriment of whatever Hero happened to disparage them. To the Superhero Council (and many individual Heroes), that was an act of Villainy in and of itself.

There were some days, occurring more and more frequently of late, that the Pied Piper seriously considered increasing that number by joining the ranks.

Instead, she closed her eyes, reaching out in her mind. Three rats crept out of the shadows, leaping and climbing until they sat upon the ropes that confined her, nibbling away. Feeling rather smug, the Pied Piper kept her voice low, but pitched to carry. “Want some help, once I’m done here?”

Silverblade twisted, slowly spinning himself around enough to glare at her. “I don’t need your help, especially since we wouldn’t be in this mess if you’d warned me like you were supposed to.”

The sheer, blatant unfairness of that claim made her mouth drop open, in both anger and disbelief. If she had warned him? If he had bothered to _listen_ to her warnings, more like! Her control over the rodents faltered for a moment, but it only took a few seconds of wriggling to snap the final strands around her torso, freeing her arms. Pulling a pocket knife out of her utility belt, the Pied Piper stuck it between her teeth and lifted her upper body enough for her to reach up and grab the rope around her feet, pulling herself up. Gaining some slack, she wrapped the rope firmly around one arm, lifting her legs and cutting through the ropes that bound her feet with the other hand.

It was a lot harder than it looked, but the Pied Piper was in the habit of keeping her knife sharp, so she only had to hold the posture for a minute that felt like a lifetime. Escaping with only a few rope burns was pretty good, and she fell lightly to the floor, shaking her arms to un-tense the muscles. Sauntering toward the door, she paused a moment at the sound of Silverblade’s voice. “Oh, very well. You can let me down and I’ll forgive your ineptitude.”

Any regrets that the Pied Piper may have had about leaving him behind abruptly vanished. Not even bothering to reply, she kept up her leisurely pace toward the door. She would need to be a lot more cautious once she was out of his sight and had to contend with the Villains who had captured them, but if she had to sit through two years of Drama classes at the Superhero Academy, she might as well make some use of them.

* * *

Turning a corner, she stopped dead. The Villain was lounging against the wall, his minion slightly behind her in a similar pose. Both were smirking gleefully. “Nicely done.”

The Pied Piper hadn’t paid it much mind in the heat of battle, but they both looked very familiar. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

The Villain, too new on the scene for his name to spring easily to mind, spread his arms dramatically. His Minion cut him off before he could launch into a monologue. “We were a few years ahead of you, I think. Both Sidekick track.”

The pieces clicked into place. “You were the first sidekick to be School Captain, and Valedictorian - “

The Villain cut her off bitterly. “Only to be forced to share both with a Hero who came distant second at the last minute, because Powers forbid that a Sidekick actually get recognised in their own right for once!”

The Minion nodded emphatically. “Then we graduated, and discovered that grades, honours and positions don’t count for crap unless you have a flashy power to go with it, and actively count against you if you manage to show up a Hero in the process. You could recite the Hero Code and all relevant laws before you finished your first semester at the Academy. How did that work out for you?”

The Pied Piper scowled. “They had me working on drafting legislation to help Heroes get around those laws, and then dumped me with a jerk who didn’t care about the rules. I’ve decided that I’m going to change that.”

The Villain grinned abruptly, holding out a hand. “I’m Ben, or Hayfever. Welcome to the fold and give them Hell. What is your next step, just so we can avoid clashing?”

Clashing? Villains did tend to get in each other’s way more often than not. It could be a trick, but there was no harm in telling them a vague outline. “There are far fewer laws regarding Villains, mostly because no-one expects Villains to obey them, but the ones regarding the difference between a Villain and a Rogue say that Villains must have an ongoing and established agenda, and a reason behind their plots.”

The Minion’s eyes gleamed. “My name is Heather, or Blossom. What does that mean for you?”

The Pied Piper imagined that her answering smirk was probably a little savage. “The Mayor justifies his over-inflated salary by claiming that he needs it to cover the times he is held for ransom. He goes strangely quiet when anyone points out that most Villains don’t consider the ransom worth putting up with his company until the transfer goes through, or that his staff doesn’t get the same consideration. I’m going to hold him for ransom, with terms that mean he can’t pass the cost onto the tax-payer as a work expence, and use the money to pay for the rest of law school. I’m due to start my Second Year in September, if I can come up with the money for fees.”

Blossom pretended to recoil. “I like you. What are you going to do with your degree?”

The Pied Piper smirked. “Well, the short version is that Supers in general and Heroes in particular are going to get a lot better at avoiding excessive damage and casualties, and at obeying the laws that protect them.”

Hayfever held up one hand for a high-five. “Look us up if you need an introduction or back-up with the Villain community. I take it that treating rules like rules rather than guidelines is going to become a good idea in the near future.”

The Pied Piper obliged him, the smack of their hands seeming far more symbolic than it probably was. “Will do. Feel free to rough Silverblade up a little on my behalf.”

Blossom cackled. “Will do. I owe the creep for refusing to listen the first dozen times I turned him down at the Academy, and for stealing Ben’s thunder.”

They exchanged grins, and the Pied Piper walked away, ready to carve her name in history and deliver a legal smack-down to anyone who tried to stop her.

 

Hannah had always preferred to fight crime in a courtroom than on the street, anyway.

 

 


End file.
